That night the Council passed a 9 p. m. to 8 a. m. curfew for the Common-intended to cover only groups loitering there, not persons walking across. Shortly afterward the Council asked the Summerthing to cancel its remaining concerts and requested that Harvard take steps to prevent "disreputable persons" from congregating in the area of Forbes Plaza. The Council also ordered the Cambridge Police to enforce strictly the laws against panhandling.

THE curfew was unenforceable; groups of freaks gathered on the Common every night for weeks there after, as if daring the police to try to push them off it. Summerthing ignored the Council's request, as did Harvard. And the merchants, not satisfied, came together again the following Wednesday to try to find out a way to get back to the profitable Cambridge they had known. Stores like Krackerjacks, J. August, Saks Fifth Avenue, and Bobbi Baker Ltd. had been hit hard. Krackerjacks had lost $2400 in windows, and as its manager said, "You have to sell a lot of bluejeans to make up for that." Many of these were little stores, not parts of chains, without big capital to build them back up if they fell down.

"How long can we be passive and turn the other cheek when we get hit?" Bobbi Baker asked, and a lot of the merchants agreed. Jim Jacobs, owner of J. August, said, "I'm not talking about killing the grass, just getting rid of the weeds, that's all."

The merchants selected Alexander Zavelle, general manager of the Coop, as their spokesman. "I think we can clean up the Square without arresting people or beating them up," Zavelle said. "I know kids will call this repression. They call everything against them repression. There has to be a middle ground. I think the merchants feel that things have gone too far one way. They want the balance readjusted. I hope the leaders of the young community will come forward and work with us." He and Sheldon Cohen, owner of the out-of-townNews Agency, began working with City Councilor Barbara Ackerman as the merchants' liaison with the street community. Their early plans included a possible Halfway House for the kids who would no longer be allowed to sleep in the Square or make a living panhandling.

The police, who had been heavily criticized by Cambridge residents for their "low visibility" strategy in the July 25 disturbance, also began to show that they meant business. After every Summerthing concert, five or more patrol cars and dozens of helmeted patrolmen blanketed the Square, prepared to cope with a further outbreak. In the daytime, police moved the freaks selling leather belts and water-pipes off the sidewalk, and several arrests were made. Radicals hawking the Old Mole and Juche (the free publication of the People's Community News Service) were repeatedly threatened with arrest and told to clear our.

AND the Square grew bleaker. Most of the stores boarded their windows and kept them that way. The tension grew, and rumors raced around. Worried merchants called each other with the latest predictions: a riot was set for tonight; massive trashing could be expected after the concert; there were Panthers with guns in town.

At the like and Tina Turner concert in the Stadium, State police swarmed around the gates and mounted police occupied every corner. As soon as Tina Turner finished her set, she was escorted to her trailer by a phalanx of blue-helmeted troopers. The crowd howled in dismay. Purse-snatching and muggings increased.

But the next disturbance did not come until August 7. Again, a mysterious message summoned Cambridge freaks to a "block party" on the Common. This time it was a brightly colored poster on the boards in front of Cambridge Trust purporting to be from a group of women who "dig NLF women." Studded with quotations from Bobby Seale and HueyNewton, it gave no particular reason for the planned action, but warned darkly that some people in the Square were attempting to prey on street culture. It asked the freaks to bring rocks, sticks, and bottles to "run in the streets" for an "outtasight night."

Again, some Cambridge radicals smelled a trap, and began circulating the word that the planned action might not be the smartest in the world. Nevertheless, by curfew time about 150 people had gathered on the Common and trash bonfires were burning brightly.

But the crowd was not solidly convinced that running in the streets with sticks, bricks, and bottles would be a stone groove on this particular night. In fact, all but about 25 were there to attempt to defuse the situation. The debate raged out from the Common onto Mass. Ave. where some began tearing down the parking rails in an attempt to build rudimentary barricades.

"C'mon, let's go to the Square!" one shouted.

"Why?" somebody else yelled.

"Ah, man, I need a new shirt," the first answered.

Someone asked another white youth why he wanted to break windows and fight cops.

"Well, look, man, when I was here last time-"